A Change In My Life---Continue on May 2013
by Killing Kunoichi
Summary: New Year's Eve/Day means to celebrate a New Year, a New Beginning, a New Dream, a New Goal… Anything that's new. And probably, I might get a New Life. - Soul Eater Evans. :P


**Hey guys… how's it going? Oh well, bored as hell, so here's another story! Actually, I was supposed to upload it during New Year's Eve and have it as a one shot. But nah, I'm starting a series. There's also going to be a Maka version for this, ya know.**

**A Change in My Life**

Prologue

A Change in My Life. It's a cheesy title, don't ya think? But come to think about it, this story tells about the change of my life and how the way I see things change… I guess I've matured a little bit this year, and it's all because of that one decision… and so it begins.

New Year's Eve/Day means to celebrate a New Year, a New Beginning, a New Dream, a New Goal… Anything that's new.

And probably out of all those things elaborated, I'm getting a New Life.

My name is Soul Eater Evans, the youngest son of the rich Evans family.

The Evans family is a family of musicians. Each of these family members plays a different kind of music instrument. My father plays the cello, my mother plays the flute, and my older brother, Wes plays the violin. I'm sure you people all know that I play the piano.

You see, because of our name and our "reputation", we are most likely expected to be the best of the best. And when it comes to being the best there is in our high class society, there's lots of work to do.

Except I didn't want that.

You see my dear readers; the Evans family has a habit of social climbing. They love to be at the top of the world, where they can see everyone bow down and give respect just because they can play music better than anyone else. Oh, yes, they're that egotistical and rich and good-looking. Maybe, that's why some girls think I'm a cocky arrogant bastard type while Wes has the "Mr. Prince Charming" look. They always had this eye on me, but my brother's the more handsome one, or so they say, but who cares? I didn't want any of that. Wes does.

Speaking of Wes, he is what you call "THE" perfect son. He's always the number one in my parent's eyes and everyone's eyes. Have I mentioned that the girls took more interest on him than on me? Well, in a way, I guess I did. He played the most beautiful of pieces and composed a whole deal as well, more than 50, I have to admit. He was really good… a real talented guy. But the reason why I hate him was because of his arrogance. Surely, I do have this sense of arrogance and cockiness as well, but his gives a feel that he's better than anyone else. He thinks that just because he came from the Evans family, he has some right to look down on other people and… well, you know what I mean already. I'm sure you've met people who are as snob-ish as he is.

And since because he's the oh-so-perfect-son, _everyone_ expects _me_ to be just like him.

Me?

People pleaser?

No thanks.

I've been through a lot of bullshit they've put me through. I've been through a lot of parties where people think I'm some other clone of Wes. I've been through a lot of downright insults from a lot of rich snob-ish people, especially my own family.

To be honest, I love music. Music drives my soul; my passion. Music is a way for me to be myself. It isn't something to be used to social climb all the way to the top. It shouldn't also used to be something as of to show off just so that you could be popular. Music should be freedom.

And so, I ran away this New Year's Eve.

Months back then, I've worked a part time job at some music shop in Death City and it's worth my time to spare. And since then, I have enough to get an apartment, which I will be looking for after doing my part time job.

"Ah, Soul, been working eh? It's getting late. Why don't you find your apartment already?" Old man Joe asked. He's the owner of the shop since forever, and he's kind of a best friend of mine ever since I ran away. Whenever I needed guidance, I always go to him.

"Nah, not yet." I told as I pat the grand piano beside me, "I've got to polish my playing first before I go."

"Hmm, alrighty then. Knock yourself out." The old man said and walked out of the small but quiet music room. This is the only place I can call Heaven.

"Hello my darling. Ready to play?" I asked the piano every once in a while before I do my thing. I treat it as my own friend and it serves me well.

"…" when the piano said nothing, I opened its mouth that revealed its black and white teeth. It was polished two hours ago and it still shines like the sun.

I sat on the stool and place my hands on the keys. My sonata began.

It started slowly, dark and ominous. Little by litte, I picked up the speed but it maintained its dark nature. My fingers pressed onto the black ones every time I start to slow down.

The music came on into a crescendo. I pressed on to the keys as hard as I could. I was already sweating my ass off. Then, the music slowed its pace. This part is the second to the last of my sonata. It's the saddest part, the part where it really slows down, but it's on a higher octave.

And now, it starts to slow down with a fast and angry pace.

The sonata ends; my vision slowly fading.

Have I ever mentioned that I was drinking alcohol after a few minutes of work?

(509—509)

As I said, New Year's Eve is to celebrate a New Year, a New Beginning, a New Dream, a New Goal, or anything that's New.

As I said, I'm getting a New Life.

I ran away from home a few hours ago, and I just played the sonata I composed a few months back.

Then, I passed out.

When I woke up, I found myself lying on the couch with a TV in front of me with some snacks on the table.

Lastly, I found a girl sleeping on a plushy chair; her dirt blonde hair falling onto her face. She was in her pj's and tank top, and her hand contained a remote and a towel. I stood up only to realize that this isn't a dream.

Where am I? What is a girl doing here? Aren't I supposed to be looking for an apartment?

As if hearing me stand up, the girl's eyes opened, showing its emerald beauty.

Beauty? Sexiness? She's flat-chested, looks like a preschool kid when she wears her hair in pigtails, and she's as skinny as a barbeque stick. Though, her legs are the real beauty. They're smooth, slender and nothing that I have seen before. But still, she's flat-chested and boobs (you know what they say) are the _real_ thing that makes a woman look gorgeous.

"So you're awake." Weird. Usually the girls I know would ask, "You okay?" or "Are you fine?" or something that concerns the well-being of the victim. She's only stating what's happening to me at the moment.

"Who are you?" that was the first thing I'd like to ask because I don't wan to think I was kidnapped by a preschool girl that has a flat chest and wants to have sex with me.

Because of my rudeness, she rolled her eyes and stood up with a reply, "A kind-hearted woman who lets a poor, poor soul in because he couldn't find his own apartment."

"What?"

A sigh was heard, "The owner of the music shop said that I should give you a home for a few days. So, I brought you here."

"So you carried me _all the way here_?" my eyes were wide open at the moment.

"Yep."

"Wow, some strength you have for thin arms…" I commented.

She glared as if saying she's mad at me for implying that she's weak.

Ignoring her face, I asked, "Who are you?"

"The name's Maka Albarn." She introduced herself and went to the kitchen, "Oh and you're welcome."

"So…" I followed her to the kitchen and watched her prepare a big meal of eleven people, "What's with all this?"

"A lot of people love to _crash_ at my place so I'd better prepare some food." She never turned to see me. I was thinking she knew I was following her. Either by women's intuition or guessing, she does know. Am I talking nonsense or I really don't know what to do next?

"Why don't you get some sleep?" Maka asked after a few minutes of silence, "You're probably tired from running away from home."

I narrowed my eyes at the last sentence. "How much do you know?"

"The part where you run away because of family stuff that I don't know about? That's probably all I know…"

Cue in the deafening silence…

"So you live alone, huh?" I gave a small comment, trying so hard to fight the boredom.

"Yep." She answered tersely.

So she's in my situation.

"You ran away from home, too?"

"More like my parents ran away." She answered bitterly, chopping off some onion. She, then, added some salt to put some flavor into the soup. Without asking more, I sat on a stool and watched as she kicks her ass of in cooking.

Back at my house, our maids cook for us. It's usually something elegant and grand for the whole family. And it's done everyday. I bet this is the only time that Maka will cook something elegant as this.

"Soul Eater Evans," she said my whole name out loud, "That's your name, right?"

"Yeah," I frowned a little bit, "What about it?"

"So you came from a family of musicians, right?"

"Your point being?" I grumbled, not wanting to talk about my family. They don't love me. They only love Wes.

"It's just that I never played an instrument before…" she replied, looking down at her hands, as if pondering about something serious.

"Oh." I really didn't know what to say, because what she said wasn't what I expected.

"What instrument do you play?" she asked, trying to lighten the conversation.

"Piano." A small smile tugged at my lips. I remember the good old times when I was alone, composing music and doing whatever I wanted to do with it. No one insulted me, no one whipped me in the head and say that whatever I'm doing is wrong, no one gave me looks of disappointment, of disapproval. I'm free…

"Wow…" she probably doesn't know what to say either. I guess you don't have to say anything when it comes to music. You just have to listen.

"Yeah…"I nodded my head, understanding what she meant.

"You really love music, huh…"

"Yep." I nodded my head again. For awhile now, Maka had been staring at me. The way she did so made me shiver, because it was as if she was looking right through into my soul and was reading it.

Either I'm crazy or it's really true.

After another long pause, she spoke:

"You really love music, huh…"

"Yep." I nodded my head again.

"So why'd you run away, if you really love music?"

I looked away, not wanting to see her pitying look. I didn't want to talk to this to anyone after running away. Even if the old man gave me the job, I never told him my past life. This is the first time someone asked me about them.

"Let's just say I didn't like the way they treated me." I tried to come up with another sentence, but I came to a stop.

"So…?" Maka gestured me to continued.

"They treated me like a failure. They loved Wes more than me. They wanted me to be just like him, my brother. So, I decided to start on a New Life." Silence started to seep in. I took a slight glance at the girl who was now chopping off some vegetables.

After a pause of silence, she continued, "You could stay in my house on one condition." Man, this girl is way too prude-ish.

I sighed, "Name it."

"Keep everything clean. Don't mess everything up, _especially_ with your laundry."

"…why?"

"The last roommate I had dumped a pile of shit in my living room. Worst part of it, he left without picking it up." Maka growled viciously at her memory.

"Your ex?" I took a guess.

"Yep." Looks like I'm right.

"He a player?"

"Looks like it." She replied in a bitter voice. Maka didn't say anymore and stopped chopping. She checked on the soup again and found it was ready to be eaten. She took it out from the stove and poured the soup into the serving bowl. It smelled like noodles.

"Want some? You can get. There's a small bowl and a pair of chopsticks right beside you." She said. I looked to my left and saw the objects she referred to. I got up, took them and sat back down, waiting for her to serve the bowl of soup.

"So, uh, your parents ran away…" I began to make a conversation to ease the silence, but I only made it a little tenser. She knows my past already so it's a payback enough for her to tell her story.

She chuckled, "So you could just ask about my personal life, just because I asked yours, huh…"

"You shouldn't have asked about it in the first place." I smirked. She'll never be able to get out of this one.

Maka sighed in defeat, "You win, you bastard. But don't get mad at me if I degrade your own gender." She muttered the last part.

"My dad is a womanizer. Whether my mom knows or not, he still cheats on her. He's still doing it right now, and probably won't be stopping anytime. My mom grew tired of that. When I was thirteen years old, I could hear her shouting at him, telling him that he wasn't good enough and that she shouldn't have married him in the first place…" Even when she wouldn't tell me what she feels about it, I could see her eyes hiding her tears. She paused, trying to calm herself down. It was obvious that it happened just a few years ago, judging her actions. I didn't say anything, but when she bore her emerald eyes into my red ones, she could tell I was listening.

"She filed a divorce. After that… she was gone after the papers were signed… she even left without saying goodbye to her only daughter… and my dad…" she gave a bitter laugh, "well… he's an ass, he's a cheating man whore… he's probably in some bar right now, flirting with the hottest woman in town." She sighed once more, as if to say she was done telling her story.

"I hate men." She spoke so loud that her voice trembled, "They cheat and lie and they go on and on about their own pride. How annoying…"

"I'm right here, you know." I grumbled right under my breath. She looked at me as if I wasn't there and laughed.

"Don't worry." She assured me, "I wouldn't throw you out, even if I wanted to. Be thankful that that old man of yours begged me to let you stay." I let a gasp of air out of relief. I was still glad that she wasn't cruel enough to kick me out, but then thought of her hating me and felt a little awkward because I'm a guy too.

When I was done eating, I gave her my thanks and went to bed after she led me to the guestroom. I thought a lot about how she hated men.

I didn't want her to hate me. I didn't want to be the one who would be the guy to end up hurting her in the end. It's not cool to do that.

I just hope she'd make me her only exception.


End file.
